


Cor Ignis

by supernovainparadise



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Sign Language, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Spencer Reid, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Gen, Hurt Spencer Reid, If you thought his previous trauma was bad, It's ten times worse here!, Kid Spencer Reid, Kidnapping, Muteness, Possibly a part one?, Protective David Rossi, Rossi adopts Reid in this one, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, no seriously, trigger warning for:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernovainparadise/pseuds/supernovainparadise
Summary: "Dave, this kid has been through unthinkable trauma. The shrink said he may never speak again, are you sure you really want to do this?"Rossi looked at his friend for a long moment, before his eyes drifted back to the five-year-old boy, sitting quietly in his chair in the precinct, arms wrapped tightly around his stuffed elephant."I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life."
Relationships: Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Jason Gideon & Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid & David Rossi, Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 36
Kudos: 443
Collections: And Suddenly: A Child





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of trigger warnings, but having said that, I won't go into detail about any of it, and don't ask me to. I cannot accurately depict the situations in their entirety, and even if I could, I wouldn't detail it out of respect. These trigger warnings include mentions of kidnapping, child neglect, and abandonment.
> 
> Children are kidnapped around the globe every day, and while most abductors are someone the victim knows, stranger abductions do still happen. If you'd like to help, I'd suggest donating to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, which covers abductions under nearly every type, including human trafficking.

**Rossi: _"History will judge us by the difference we make in the everyday lives of children." Nelson Mandela._**

When the FBI was called into Las Vegas to investigate the abduction of two young boys, one found dead already, from the same neighborhood and similar circles, David Rossi figured this would be somewhat easy. The abductor would be someone the kids knew, of course; the little league coach, a neighbor, maybe even a teacher. They'd manage to narrow it down based on a loose profile, catch the guy within 24 hours of the second abduction and return the kid to his parents' waiting arms. Case closed, happy family and safe kid, outside of a bit of trauma, and they'd pack up and get back on a plane to Quantico. All-in-all, a fairly easy day.

If David Rossi could go back in time, he'd give himself a solid smack in the head. This case had turned out to be anything but easy, anything but typical.

December 2nd, 1986, was anything but a typical day, or a typical case, for David Rossi, Jason Gideon, and Max Ryan.

* * *

The clock on the wall ticked as Dave paced the room, Ryan scribbled notes, and Gideon frowned at the board. They had less than ten hours to find the boy, and the matter was much more complicated than they assumed it would be when they made the flight out to Vegas. They had initially assumed that the five-year-old was reported missing by his mother or father, his primary caretakers, but he was in fact reported missing by a family friend who's own son had turned up dead only days before. Dave was... floored, to say the least. How could the child's parents not notice he was gone? How could he vanish from beneath a gaze that was supposed to be ever watchful?

So he dug. He looked into them and quickly figured out how, exactly, they could miss their son so easily; his mother was schizophrenic and refused to take her medications. Dave didn't say it aloud but quietly thought that she should be in an institution. And the boy's father? Never around. Went to work before his son woke, came back long after he was asleep, and often went on long and distant business trips. It was easy for Dave to rule out his involvement, but it still left the question; where the hell was the kid?

They had two victims; not enough to form a geographic profile. They had ruled out all the men close to both boys as suspects. Neither of the child's parents could remember where they saw him last, and the first boy's father said he was in a park. Maybe that's the third point? It's all they had. So they closed in, asked around, and narrowed it down till they happened to knock on the right door, barely an hour before their time was up.

"Wait, let me see that picture again," the elderly woman asked, and Ryan stepped forward to hand it to her. She frowned, then her face lit up. "Oh! The gentleman two houses down to the left has a little boy who looks exactly like him!"

Rossi and Ryan exchanged glances, and Rossi asked, "how old was this boy, do you think?"

"Four, maybe five?"

That was it. Rossi and Ryan sprinted for the door, leaving the poor old woman confused in their wake, and pounded on the door. No answer... Rossi knocked again, and there wasn't even a hint of movement. So, he waved Ryan back and kicked the door down.

Of course, as luck would have it, the house was empty, with no sign of the man who lived there, or the boy he supposedly has with him.

And then their twenty-four hours are up. The worst part isn't just knowing that this boy is dead, it's the fact that his mother can't seem to understand or the fact that his father seems disappointed, but not particularly grief-stricken. Of course, Rossi is unsurprised when Max suggests looking into him as a suspect. He gets it, he really does, but something else is nagging at him.

Rossi goes for a walk, on the edge of the desert at the outskirts of the city, and it's there that he sees the trailer. At the moment, he thinks of nothing more than getting a glass of water. He knocks on the door and gets no answer. He's fully prepared to turn and leave when he hears movement. He waits another minute, and hears something crash and break. Concerned, he tries the door and finds it unlocked.

Inside he finds little Spencer Reid, dressed only in an adult's t-shirt, glasses missing, and face smeared with dirt and what looks to be dried blood. Rossi is unsurprised but still heartbroken when the boy cowers in the corner, wide hazel eyes taking in his every movement.

 _How long,_ Rossi thinks, _till this child would've lost his life to whoever put him here_ _?_ He doesn't let himself dwell on that, instead gently kneels down and speaks to Spencer in a soft voice. "I'm a police officer, I'm here to help you..."

He tries for several minutes to coax Spencer out of the corner. He's about to give up when he remembers the toy he fetched from his room. He runs back out to his car, thankfully parked nearby, and returns with the soft stuffed elephant. He holds it out to Spencer, a sort of peace offering... And the boy creeps forward and takes it, looking up at Rossi with a good deal more trust. Dave is careful in picking him, mindful of any injuries he may have suffered, and little Spencer tightens his grip around his elephant and buries his head into Dave's shoulder, sniffling.

And he's safe. For now, he's safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that nothing about custody is very accurate in this fic, and that it would take a LONG time for a lot of this to go through in our world, Rossi pulling strings or no.

Rossi thinks that the worst part about all this is that they may never find the awful person who did this to poor Spencer. They take him to a psychiatrist that specializes in traumatized children, and she informs them that Spencer will not speak, that he may not speak for many years, and if he does it will likely only be a few words at a time. Initially, the police want to send Spencer home with his parents, but Rossi remembers their reactions to him going missing and immediately shuts that down. He can see the heartbreak in his mother's eyes, but also a measure of understanding. Despite everything, she knows that she's failed her boy, and doesn't put up any sort of his fight.

Spencer's father never even shows up to the precinct to see his son, and Dave has half a mind to hunt him down and pound his face in. He resists the urge, but only barely, and only because one of the detectives talk him out of it. 

The same psychiatrist who talked to Spencer suggests that Diana Reid gets placed in a care facility, at least until it's determined that she can be on her own. She's reluctant about it, but ultimately agrees, even though it means relinquishing custody of her son. William, simply by not showing up, has his parental rights pretty well stripped right then and there, even if it means Rossi has to make a few phone calls. Rossi and Gideon spend hours on the phone after that, talking to judges and officials, and then to Spencer's family.

God, Spencer's fucking family.

Diana's parents are long dead, and she was an only child, much like Spencer himself. His father's parents are also dead, but he has two living siblings, both married, one couple with a daughter a few years older than Spencer. The first couple says they've never wanted children and hangs up on him before he even has a chance to try and sell it to them. And the other couple? Somehow worse. He brings up Spencer, and the woman on the other side of the phone begins shrieking as soon as he says the boy's name.

" _I_ _am NOT taking that... that... FREAK into my house! I haven't even let him speak to his cousin, and you think I'd let him LIVE with her?! And now that he's traumatized, that's going to make it ten times worse! Shove him into foster care, or an orphanage or something, but keep him the hell away from me and my family!_ "

Rossi stares at the phone, jaw slack, for a good two minutes, mind moving a hundred miles an hour. His eyes keep darting to the little boy sitting in the chair and sipping a juice box while one of the detectives tries to get him to talk. Said detective doesn't seem angry that Spencer can only shake or nod his head, and it doesn't take her long to switch to yes or no questions only. Spencer's arm is still wrapped tight around his stuffed elephant.

How could anyone call a five-year-old child a freak? Nothing he had seen at the psychiatrist's office had indicated that the boy had any issues to warrant the usage of the word, nothing violent or angry, just... sad and traumatized. Nothing in his behavior so far had given Rossi any reason to keep him away from other children, other than outright shyness. Rossi sighs, putting the phone back on the receiver before making his way over to where the boy sat. He looked up, and something in his face changed when he saw Rossi. It was almost like a light came on in those little green eyes, and he starts kicking his feet a little. Dave smiles and kneels down in front of him.

"Are you doing okay, buddy?" A little nod. "I have some stuff I gotta tell you, and I don't think you're going to like a lot of it. You might already know, but your mom's really sick. She has to go to a hospital for a while, so she won't be able to take care of you." Spencer looks at him, eyes full of understanding that no five-year-old should have, and nods. Rossi decides to skate around the issue of his dad, instead saying, "so we'll have to find someone else to take care fo you, okay?" A nod. Good.

Rossi stands, ignoring the itch to hug the boy, or ruffle his hair, and walks back over to where Gideon and Ryan are standing, both looking over the scene with a frown, and a good deal of sympathy. Gideon runs a hand over his face with a sigh, and mutters, "this is a mess." Ryan merely shakes his head.

Rossi turns back to the boy, sipping his juice and looking around the precinct with unrestrained curiosity, and feels a tug somewhere deep in his chest. The idea of leaving such a traumatized child in foster care physically pains him. The chances are high he'll end up in a cycle of abuse, one that may never be broken.

Then a thought occurs to him; what if Dave breaks that cycle himself?

The words are out of his mouth before he can filter them; "I'm going to take him in."

Gideon and Ryan stare at him for a long second before Gideon bursts out laughing. "You owe me five bucks, Max! I told you he'd adopt the kid!"

Max merely sighs and shakes his head before saying, "Dave, this kid has been through unthinkable trauma. The shrink said he may never speak again, are you sure you really want to do this?"

Rossi looked at his friend for a long moment, before his eyes drifted back to the five-year-old boy, sitting quietly in his chair in the precinct, arms wrapped tightly around his stuffed elephant.

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still writing this I promise!!


	3. Chapter 3

Rossi will be completely and utterly honest; he had no idea what he was getting into when he brought little Spencer home. He had no experience as a parent, and no support from anyone; half his family was in Italy, the other half in New York City. Beyond that, Dave had grown up with two loving parents, four siblings, and tons of aunts and uncles and cousins always in and out of his home. He didn't have that to offer to Spencer; no children of his own, no wife, no nearby family. It was just him and Spencer in his quiet home out in the Virginia countryside.

Spencer seemed to settle in nicely, to Rossi's surprise. He put the kid in the plainly decorated spare bedroom and promised him they'd get it decorated soon; Rossi had been granted leave to get the boy into kindergarten and settle him into the new place. And it was going... alright, if you ignored the fact that the boy was mute and Rossi had no way of full communication with him beyond gestures. They developed somewhat of a system, but both of them sometimes found it frustrating to communicate with pointing and nods. But Rossi quickly discovered something that might work to their advantage; the boy was a voracious reader already, and a very quick study.

So, Rossi picked up a few books on sign language and found a teacher for both of them, and within a month, Spencer could sign almost completely fluently. Rossi wasn't the best at the physical act of signing, but he picked up what each sign meant quickly enough. It quickly turned out that, even without the usage of his voice, Spencer had a lot to say. So much so, that Rossi sometimes had to ask him to resign parts of whatever he had just tried to tell him. Spencer seemed happy to do so, so long as Dave listened.

Spencer settled into routine well enough; he excelled at school, so much so that his teachers suggested he be moved all the way up to second grade already, and he was very fond of Dave and the house. They decorated his room space theme; glow in the dark stars on the ceilings, planet covered bedspread, and books on the stars and astronomy. He even helped Spencer set up a telescope in the window. Things were, for the most part, fantastic. Spencer was a wonderful kid, and Dave found himself loving the boy a little more every single day.

That wasn't to say that there weren't imperfections. Spencer had a crippling fear of the dark that was sometimes hard to work around, though between the glowing stars and his nightlight he seemed okay most nights. Dave sometimes missed the mark on food too, though the boy was still really adventurous for a five-year-old. But it wasn't Spencer's fear of the dark or his typical pickiness that really caused problems. Dave had expected all that. What he didn't expect, and really should have expected, were the nightmares.

Dear God the nightmares.

Rossi was no stranger to them, you couldn't work a job in the FBI and work in the field and not have nightmares. His entire life revolved around catching killers and examining their victims, so it was no wonder he had nightmares. But Dave had never experienced any of that, never been on the receiving end of any of them. And poor, fragile little Spencer, only five-years-old, had been.

Most nights, it was the screams that woke Rossi up. He would sprint out of bed and to his son's room to find him in the middle of a nightmare. He would wake him, and Spencer would bury his head into Dave's shoulder, whimpering. He wouldn't sign or speak, merely shiver in his adoptive father's arms. The nightmares got so bad that Rossi took him to a psychiatrist again. That helped a bit, but even in adulthood Spencer would admit that those same nightmares still sometimes plagued him.


	4. Chapter 4

Two years after adopting Spencer Reid, Dave had pretty well resigned himself to the likelihood that the boy would never speak. He didn't mind this, of course, he didn't, but he did mourn for the boy's losses. It was difficult, he saw, growing up in a world that doesn't like to make exceptions for those who are different. And yet somehow, despite this, Spencer still seemed to thrive. He was smart, and a quick study and he liked to climb trees and go swimming and play with animals. He wasn't very social, but he still had friends, and he had given Rossi and his teachers little to worry about in terms of development. Dave quietly prayed that this would stay the same as the years went on.

Spencer may not be able to speak, but he could still laugh and cry, still make small noises even if they weren't any discernable language, although it appeared that he was bilingual. He could read French as well as English, and Rossi was quick to begin teaching him Italian. It was no surprise he picked it up fast, and his relatives were delighted with the boy's fluency.

Of course, Rossi should have known the quiet wouldn't last forever.

It was a warm summer evening, and Rossi was making dinner. The window was open, and he could hear the songbirds call carrying on a delicate breeze. Little Spencer, only seven years old, was diligently drawing at the counter, tongue sticking out ever so slightly, his tiny features screwed up in concentration. Rossi glanced over his shoulder at his son from time to time, and each time he caught Spencer's eyes, Spencer would shoot him a brilliant grin, showing off a missing front tooth, before returning to his doodles.

After a little while, Rossi heard the coloring stop. He finished making the sauce and put the lid on, turning to look at Spencer, who had his head tilted off to one side and was giving him a quizzical look. Rossi raises an eyebrow and asks, "everything okay, buddy?" Spencer doesn't respond, merely blinks at him and frowns. Rossi tries again, signing this time, but Spencer still doesn't sign back.

Instead, he looks down at his drawing, silent and almost hesitant, then simply shakes his head. Rossi gives him a concerned look, but turns back to dinner, not wanting to accidentally start an oil fire.

He's just put the noodles in the boiling water when he hears it.

A soft, tiny, and rather rough voice saying, "dad?"

His breath hitches in the back of his throat, and he carefully sets the wooden spoon down with shaking hands, before turning to look at his son, trying to stay as composed as possible. "Spencer?" he breaths, not daring to break the moment.

The boy blinks up at him, eyes wide as though he's surprised himself as well. Rossi expects him to draw away, to turn and run off to his rooms and curl up in his blankets. Instead, Spencer takes a deep breath and says, "thank you."

Rossi raises an eyebrow and walks over to the stool where Spencer is sitting, reaching out and gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "For what, kiddo?"

"Everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, you can have a small chapter, as a treat
> 
> I'm working on some longer ones, including a Christmas themed chapter for the end of the week, so I promise there will be more content!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO THIS FIC ISN'T DEAD I PROMISE. I'M NOT DEAD I PROMISE.

It took Spencer much longer after the initial outburst of words to begin actually speaking, and even then he tended to reserve his voice for when it was just him and Rossi. As time went on, the rare and treasured "I love you"s that Rossi heard were built upon, and by the time Spencer was ten (and already in high school!), the outpouring of words just never seemed to stop at home. He was quieter outside of the house, but if you brought up a subject that Spencer was fairly knowledgeable on, or one he was interested in, he could talk for what felt like hours. Dave always had a hard time stopping this river of words, after so long of Spencer's traumatized silence.

It was really no surprise that within a year of his speaking, Spencer quickly mastered both Italian and French, and began working on Russian. He'd been able to read and write the two aforementioned languages before, but now he was perfectly fluent. It made holidays easier, Spencer's ability to communicate with his grandmother in her native tongue, and though he still shied away from the conversation more often than not, Rossi was proud to watch his child grow into a kind, responsible young man.

Of course, Rossi should've known it wouldn't be all smooth sailing.

The first notable incident occurred when Spencer was ten. At this point, he'd begun to actually speak to his peers, sometimes rambling on a little too long. And because kids were mean, and Spencer was particularly young for his class (he was already a freshman), this lead to bullying. At first, just typical teasing and nicknames like "four-eyes" and "nerd".

Nicknames that evolved into crueler things as the older kids learned new words, new insults, new comments. So when Rossi was called into the school because Spencer had been treed by a classmate threatening to hurt him, and then fallen out of said tree and breaking his wrist, he knew it was only going to get worse. And he tried to get ahead of it, he really truly did. He transferred Spencer to another school and prayed he'd be okay in this one.

For a while, he was. Granted, he didn't have many friends and he'd begun to get quiet again, but Rossi was just grateful that he wasn't being chased up trees here. Alas, it was far too good to be true, because when Spencer was a Junior (at 12) and began to hit puberty, Rossi noticed him paying more attention to the girls (and maybe some of the boys, though he was careful not to bring it up given what the other kids at his old school used to call him. Besides, let Spencer come out on his own terms) in the class. So he wasn't at all surprised when Spencer expressed to him that he had a crush on one of the girls a year below him, though she was closer to his age. When Dave tried to press for details, Spencer awkwardly laughed him off and shoveled more carbonara down his throat.

He was far more surprised when Spencer didn't get off the bus at the usual time. Dave was quick to write it off, figuring that he'd likely gotten caught up in books, or stopped at the library, or was hanging out with Ethan. It wasn't till fifteen minutes later and Spencer didn't show up with a bag full of library books, or without receiving a call from Ethan's mom that Rossi decided to head back to the school and see if he couldn't track down his wayward son.

And found him naked, tied to a goal-post, and being jeered at by the people who were supposed to be his peers. Of course, when they saw the hell-bound, furious FBI agent heading towards them, they scattered. Rossi was as gentle as he could possibly be as he untied Spencer and lowered him down. The boy was shaking like a leaf, arms wrapped tight around his body as Rossi took off his coat and wrapped it around him. The haunted look in his eyes...

 _No twelve year old should have eyes like that._ Rossi thinks, and he knows from the glassed-over look that Spencer is lost in horrifying memories of a trailer in the Nevada Desert.

Rossi enrolls Spencer in a private school that night and calls a young up-start lawyer he knows to see if he can't file some kind of suit. Young Aaron Hotchner is more than happy to help, and more than a little indignant at what Dave tells him. As Rossi listens to the prosecutor rant over the phone as he drafts up a case, he feels guilt pool in the bottom of his stomach as he glances up at Spencer Reid, curled up on the couch with a mug of Italian hot cocoa and a warm blanket tossed over his shoulders, wondering why he didn't intervene in some way earlier.

He interrupts Hotch mid-sentence, asking if he knows any trauma counselors.


	6. Chapter 6

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO?!" Aaron's hands came down sharply on the table, and the judge gave him a bored look.

"They're _minors,_ Hotchner. If you want something done you have to go through the school."

"Some of them were eighteen!" Hotch sputters, words garbled between his heavy southern accent and furious anger.

The judge sighs and runs a hand over his face. "If the boy and his father choose to press charges-"

"They have!"

"-we'll deal with it from there. But honestly, this will likely be settled-" the judge is cut off by the sound of his office door slamming shut as Aaron storms back into the hall and to his own office, where he swiftly grabs the phone and calls Rossi.

* * *

Rossi and Spencer sit across from the principal of Spencer's old school as he scribbles down the names of the students Rossi named, before pausing about halfway down the list and signing, setting the list aside.

"David, I understand where you are coming from, but punishing this many students would look... pretty awful on the school. The most we can do for most of them is detention-"

Rossi stands suddenly, and the principal swallows hard. "Detention?! You _do_ realize this was sexual assault, correct? And any pictures taken or distributed, by minors or adults, is child pornography?"

The principal hisses at the words, quickly glancing towards his door as though making sure no one had overheard him, before leaning in and whispering, "I will do what I can."

Rossi leaned in as well, fuming all the while. "That's not good enough. I want to see everything possible done, or God forbid I will take this to the federal levels and you will never see the outside of a prison cell again."

And with that, Rossi walked out, Spencer a little bit behind him. As they piled into the car, Rossi glanced over at the passenger seat. Ever since the goal-post incident, Spencer had gone back to being nearly completely mute. He spoke rarely at home, and never outside of the house or to anyone apart from Rossi and very, very rarely Hotch. It was breaking Dave's heart to watch the boy who had become so bubbly and talkative and fun curl back into his previous shell.

The drive home was silent, Reid staring out the window, occasionally sniffling or wiping his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted to see consequences, so here's a brief chapter about them! More to come later in the story, I've got a particular chapter planned that details exactly what happens to these students.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I want to thank all of you for reading, and for leaving so many wonderful comments! I read every single one of them, and seeing them always makes my day.
> 
> I do want to say one thing here real quick; my life is not centered around writing these fics. I am a pre-law student, at the end of my undergrad and trying to get into a good law school. A lot of my time is devoted to class, and when I'm not in class I'm typically working to pay off loans and pay for rent. Writing these fics is simply for fun, and I try and update when I get the chance. 
> 
> But it's really disheartening to see comments like "why isn't this longer" "why haven't you updated yet" "Please write more" because I want to write more! I want to give you guys more content! But I'm very pressed for time already, and thus the best way to update these fics is with semi-frequent short chapters.
> 
> Just please keep in mind with any fic you read, the person behind it probably has a life outside of that story and this platform. They might be a student like me, or have a full-time job, or be taking care of personal issues. We're real people, and as much as we love putting out content for you guys, some things in our life do have to come first.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and I'm sorry this one is so short! I wanted to get some content out.

"101 degrees," Rossi murmurs, checking the thermometer as the thirteen-year-old grumbles under his breath and burrows deeper into his blankets. "How long have you been feeling sick, Spence?"

"Dunno..." Spencer mutters, reaching out to nab the thermos of tea on the end table. "A day?"

Dave sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he watches him sip slowly at the tea. "And you didn't think to say anything?"

"Didn't think it was a big deal," Spencer huffs, and Rossi takes the tea from him and puts it back on the table. "I wasn't feeling that bad anyways."

After a moment, Dave sighs and gently ruffles his son's hair. "Alright. Get some sleep, kiddo."

Spencer doesn't respond, and Dave sees pretty quickly that he's already drifted off into the land of dreams once again. He takes a moment to pull the blankets up a little higher, then turns off the light and steps out of the room. The phone rings and he hurries to pick it up, answering with a soft, "hello?"

"Hey, it's Jason. How's the kid?"

"Awful. He spent most of the morning throwing up, and can't keep anything down but tea, water, and small amounts of saltine crackers. His fever's gotten worse too; I hope I don't have to take him to the hospital."

Gideon makes a sympathetic noise over the phone. "Poor kid. Makes me glad Stephen doesn't get sick very often. Has it been this bad before?"

Rossi sighs. "A couple of times. Spencer's immune system is pretty shoddy, but it doesn't stop me from worrying when he gets sick." Rossi glances over his shoulder at the closed door. "Beyond that, I know he hates it when I baby him. Old habits die hard I guess. He might be thirteen, but I still see that scared little five year old..." Rossi shakes his head. "But I imagine you didn't call me just to check up on my son."

"No, we've reached another dead end in the case. I was hoping you might have some insight, maybe something we didn't see before..."

The two men spend the next twenty minutes or so talking about the case, and as Rossi hangs up he hears Spencer's door open. Before he can even say anything to the boy, he's sprinting down the hall and throwing the bathroom door open, then shut. A few moments later Dave can hear him retching, and he winces before heading over and softly opening the door, and kneeling down to hold Spencer's hair back, rubbing a soft hand on his shoulder.

Thankfully, Spencer begins to recover, but Rossi isn't all that surprised when he wakes up a couple of days later feeling feverish and nauseous. Spencer has the good sense to look a little bit guilty, at least.


End file.
